Pleasant Silence
by Shadow 3013
Summary: Short little Percy/Oliver / Oliver/Percy ficlet, written by request. Percy's POV, pure fluff. Warning: Slash/Shonen-ai/Yaoi


The Harry Potter series and all its characters do not belong to me. They are the marvelous creations of the wonderful J. K. Rowling, whom I love for coming up with them; I'm just borrowing them for a bit and hoping I don't dishonor the series. I have no money, I mean no disrespect, and this is for pleasure, not profit, so please don't sue.  
  
I'm going to warn you right now that this series will contain slash/shonen- ai/yaoi. For those of you unfamiliar with any of those terms, it means a boy/boy relationship; in this case, it's Percy and Oliver. If you aren't comfortable with this, or you don't like homosexual relationships, then please don't read it; it isn't your cup of tea, and there's no reason to flame me when I've forewarned you what will be in this fic.  
  
This fic is dedicated to Farah and my sister Buttercup; they both requested an Oliver/Percy fic, and this is what I came up with. I'm rather happy with it, especially seeing as I've never read any fanfics of this couple, and it's been a while since I've read one of the books with Oliver in them. (I'm reading the fourth book right now, but it's been almost a month since I read the third one) I'm going to go reread the entire series and fix this fic once I do, but for now, this is what I'm posting. I hope this is enjoyable for at least some of you; please review this if you want me to write more Oliver/Percy. Thanks, and on to the ficlet.  
  
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"So. What do we do now?" I ask softly, snuggling a little closer to the young man lying next to me in bed. He runs his fingers through my hair gently.  
  
"I'm not sure. How is your family going to react if they find out?" he replies.  
  
"It doesn't matter what they think, Oliver." I scowl, my face darkening. "I've done my best to make them all proud; if they can't handle one choice I make that doesn't make them happy, then I don't see why it's worth even trying to please them." The moonlight shining into the room just barely enables me to make out the smile that appears on his face.  
  
"I've always thought some of your know-it-all attitude is just for show." He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me a little closer. "Not all of it, of course, but that's okay; you have the right to be proud. Great grades, prefect for two years and this year Head Boy. I don't think it's been all just for your family, but I know a lot of it has."  
  
I don't know what to say to that, so this time I just stay quiet. No protests or boasts or haughty explanations I make up on the spur of the moment. Just pleasant silence.  
  
We lay like that, quiet and still, for several minutes. I love the feeling of his strong, well muscled arms around me; being in those arms is even better than watching him play Quidditch. When we're alone like this, he even gets that same awe-filled, delighted look on his face. And I love knowing that I'm the one that's put it there.  
  
When he finally speaks again, he makes me even happier. He has the strange talent of always saying the right things at the right times, or at least he does when it comes to me.  
  
"Percy, I don't know if your parents have ever said this, but. I know that you have to live up to a lot of expectations, Bill and Charlie being your older brothers and all, but you don't have to prove anything. You're you, and that's all that I care about; it's all that should matter to anyone that really cares about you. Percy Weasley. If someone needs the 'Prefect' or 'Head Boy' or 'genius' attached to your name in order to want to be your friend, then they aren't worth it."  
  
"Oliver." I whisper, touched. I don't know how he does it. He's the only one that's ever warmed my heart like this, made me feel truly special just for being myself. With older brothers like Bill and Charlie, that's not something that happens too often; it's not Mother or Father's fault, it just happens, but it's still nice to be appreciated by someone. Especially someone I love. "Thank you." My voice cracks, but it doesn't matter. I don't care how I look or sound, not when it's just Oliver and me.  
  
Oliver shakes his head and smile at me lovingly. "There's no reason to thank me, Percy. I'm just telling you what anyone that's not blind, deaf, and dumb should be able to realize."  
  
Tears start to form in my eyes at his words. I'm only glad that none of my brothers are here to see this; they'd never let me live down being this emotional.  
  
"So." Oliver begins, kissing away the unshed tears. "You're going to watch me at practice later, right? You know, I really think we're going to win this year. Potter's been working really hard. Everyone on the team has."  
  
"Especially you. Of course I'll be there."  
  
He grins warmly. "Good. I always perform better when I know I've got moral support. Particularly when the supporter is the man of my dreams."  
  
We just lay here for a while, content. "So, what do we do until then?" I ask, tilting my head to look into his eyes.  
  
Oliver's eyes twinkle. "Do you have any objections to just snuggling for a few more hours?"  
  
I shake my head. "That sounds like a wonderful plan to me."  
  
"Well then. Why don't you put your glasses on, and you can help me read a few books on Quidditch moves and strategies?"  
  
I can't help but grin. Leave it to Oliver to work Quidditch into even out private time. Oh well. I might as well just enjoy this while it lasts; the others will be back from Hogsmeade all too soon, and we'll have to be out of bed and decently dressed before then. "Sure thing, Oliver." I don't see my glasses anywhere nearby, and frown.  
  
"Here." Oliver grabs his wand from the floor next to the bed and waves it; my glasses come soaring from across the room and perch on my nose. A split second later a stack of books levitates over to the bed as well. "Now," he continues, handing me a thick volume and taking another one for himself. "Tell me if you read anything interesting that I haven't told you about. I'll just reread this part on the Wronski Defensive Feint. I have to come up with a way to describe it to Harry."  
  
We go back to lying in pleasant silence, the sound of turning pages the only noise in the room. This peace won't last much longer, and we both realize it, but it's nice while it lasts. 


End file.
